


Two Reports For the Price of One

by ElvenQueen18



Series: Rosawatts Headcanon-verse [3]
Category: To the Moon Series (Video Games)
Genre: Biased Accounts, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Drama, Humor, Neil/Eva is present but not a focus, Other, Pre-Canon, Self-Serving Memory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27425506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenQueen18/pseuds/ElvenQueen18
Summary: After a case gone wrong, Neil and Eva are left with the threat of a lawsuit and the need to get their stories straight. Exaggerations, arguments, and possible falsehoods ensue.
Relationships: Eva Rosalene & Neil Watts, Neil Watts/Original Female Character (minor)
Series: Rosawatts Headcanon-verse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003632
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Prologue

They said nothing as they packed up their equipment and left their patient’s house.

They said nothing as they got into the company car and drove for the next few hours.

They said nothing when they stopped at a hotel for the night, too tired to continue driving home.

She spoke briefly to the receptionist to get them a room for two, but she didn’t give her partner so much as a glance in his direction, and he avoided looking at her as well. If the receptionist noticed the bruises on his face or the tension between the pair, she was smart enough to not comment on it.

It was only after they were settled in their room—a modestly furbished room with two beds (thank goodness; neither of them were in the mood to deal with having only one bed to sleep in), a couple of lamps, and a TV—that Eva broke the silence.

“You really shouldn’t have done that back there,” she informed Neil as she sat on the bed on the right-hand side of the room.

Neil scowled as he plopped down on the other bed, ignoring the springs creaking in protest. “I believe the phrase you’re looking for is ‘thank you.’”

“Thank you for _what_?” Eva demanded. “Leaving Roland Stewart’s memories to get into a fight with his son?”

“The asshole laid hands on you. Sue me for thinking you could use some help.”

Eva bristled. “Our _patient_ was the one who needed help, not me. And because of your overreaction—”

“I did _not_ overreact!” Neil snapped. “An overreaction would be if I’d whipped out a lightsaber and sliced him to bits.”

“We could be the ones getting sued,” she finished as though there had been no interruption. “Have you thought about that at all?”

“All we’d have to say is that it was all Peter Stewart’s fault and we’d be in the clear.”

“And how do you think the boss will react to you going postal on our client’s family member?”

 _That_ gave Neil pause. His lips pressed together in a thin line, and he abruptly stood up. “I’m gonna see if this place’s got ice.”

* * *

“The boss will be wanting our reports tomorrow,” Eva said as soon as Neil returned with an icepack

“Gee, I’m feeling quite better; thanks for caring,” he grumbled, pressing the pack to his bruised cheek as he sat back down on his bed.

She ignored his sarcasm. “Have you thought about what you’re going to write?”

“Yep. ‘Shit happened and the mission was a failure.’”

“I think you’re going to have be a little more detailed than that if you want to keep your job.”

“The boss isn’t going to fire me,” Neil insisted. “I’ll get a slap on the wrist and you and I’ll be back to business as usual faster than you can say ‘slap on the wrist.’”

“Neil, you _beat someone up_. Not even you believe that you’ll get off so easily.”

“I _defended ourselves_ —you’re acting like I went crazy on the guy for no reason!”

“How the tomato do you think this is going to look if it gets out? People already hate us for the work we do—you don’t need to give them more ammo!”

“Are you trying to say the boss might fire me to maintain Sigmund Corp.’s _sterling_ reputation among folks who don’t like us anyway? Hun, if he was going to do that, he would’ve done it over two years ago.”

Eva sighed in frustration. “Can you _please_ just humor me for a minute? I want to know exactly what you’re going to write in your report. It just might be the difference between you still having a job by the end of the week or not.”

Neil rolled his eyes from behind his glasses. “I guess I’ll have to if I want you off my back. But you’ll have to tell me what you’re going to say in your report, too. It’s only fair.”

“Fine, whatever. Just start from the beginning.”

“The beginning. Right.” Neil stood up and started pacing, pressing his icepack to his other cheek. “Well, I guess it began when you came to my office this afternoon saying we had a patient.”


	2. Dr. Watts' Account

_“Neil, get your ass up! We’ve got a patient!”_

_Neil gave a start at the sound of Eva’s decidedly_ impatient _voice coming from the doorway of his office, jerking himself out of the bored, late-afternoon dozing he’d been drifting in and out of for the last fifteen minutes._

 _Eva didn’t wait for a reply before continuing. “The boss just texted me about a Roland Stewart who lives_ way the hell _out in the middle of nowhere. I predict an all-nighter just because it’ll take us hours to even find the guy’s house.” She huffed. “We’d better get paid good for this—I hate having to work all night.”_

_“Well, the sooner we get to it, the sooner it’ll be over, yeah?” Neil said, standing up from his chair and privately wondering who (literally?) peed in Eva’s tea this morning._

_“Whatever. Meet me at the company car in thirty seconds or less.” With that said, Eva turned around, her long black hair swinging behind her, and went down the hall. “And don’t forget the briefcase, damn it!”_

_“Sure thing, Eva,” Neil answered, even though she was already too far away to hear him._

* * *

_After about four hours of driving, Neil and Eva finally made it to the patient’s house, a small, one-story bungalow on the outskirts of a little town. Eva marched up to the porch and sharply knocked on the front door, Neil trailing behind her with the heavy briefcase full of their equipment in hand._

_“Hello,” a woman in her early thirties said in a soft, lilting voice after opening the door. “I’m Dr. Lucinda Hartley. You must be from Sigmund Corp.”_

_“Yes, we are,” Neil told her. “I’m—”_

_“Dr. Rosalene,” Eva butted in, “and the guy sweating next to me is Dr. What’s-His-Face.”_

_“She means Dr. Watts,” Neil quickly corrected. He gave Dr. Hartley a slight smile and a swift, discreet look-over, not failing to notice how beautiful she was. The medical doctor was tall, willowy, and olive-skinned, her eyes were a deep shade of brown, and her long, dark brown hair—almost the color of coffee—was pulled back into a bun._

_“It’s nice to meet you,” Dr. Hartley said, smiling back at Neil. “Very nice.”_

_Eva’s gaze darted from Neil to Dr. Hartley; she looked about as indignant as a housewife who just found out that all her favorite trashy soap operas had been cancelled. “Well, if you’re done with the..._ pleasantries _,” she said with a barely restrained edge in her voice, “do you mind if we go inside and see the dying old fossil who lives here?”_

_Dr. Hartley nodded, not fazed by Eva’s hostility in the least. “Of course. Follow me.”_

_She led Neil and Eva inside the house. They went through the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, and a hallway before reaching Roland Stewart’s bedroom. The eighty-eight-year-old man was_ _hooked up to an IV and lying unconscious in his bed. An ECG machine beeped steadily on the nearby night table._

_Minutes passed as Neil and Eva got the memory machine up and running. “At least it looks like he’s still breathing,” he heard her mutter as she put one of the helmets on Roland’s head. “If he croaks before we can get started, I’m demanding extra pay for all the time we wasted.”_

_“What can you tell us about the patient?” Neil asked Dr. Hartley, choosing to ignore Eva’s grumbling._

_“Roland was the manager of the local pizzeria for almost forty years before he retired,” Dr. Hartley answered. “His wife Donna died eight years ago, and his son Peter lives nearby with his family. Roland’s last wish is to become a film star.”_

_“Just how much time do we even have?” Eva wanted to know. “Because right now, Mr. One Foot in the Grave here looks like a stiff breeze will do him in.”_

_A worried expression crossed Dr. Hartley’s pretty face. “If you’re_ very _lucky, I’d say about twelve hours at most. Currently, his vitals are about as good as they’re going to get, but I’m afraid Roland’s condition isn’t the most stable. I almost lost him twice before you came here.”_

_“Twelve hours is more than enough time,” Neil assured her with a confident grin. “He’ll be dying happy before you know it.”_

_Dr. Hartley paused, considering his words. “Well, it’s good to hear you’re optimistic about this, Neil.”_

* * *

“She didn’t know your first name, idiot!” Eva snapped irritably, clenching her bedspread in tight fists. She’d forced herself to bite her tongue from the moment Neil started talking like she’d been some cranky shrew, but him claiming that Dr. Hartley had called him by his first name could _not_ go without rebuttal.

“Oh, sorry; did I touch a nerve?” Neil teased, looking about as smug as someone with a bruised face could be.

Eva gave him a venomous glare. “Of course not; now continue.”

“As you wish.” Neil lowered his icepack from his face, the self-satisfied smile fading. “Anyway, we got into the machine, and we were still in Roland’s most recent memories when we ran into problems.”

* * *

 _Neil and Eva were in the middle of watching the elderly Roland sit at his desk in the study and listen to an audiobook of Bram Stoker’s_ Dracula _when the scene faded out slightly, only to revert to its original visibility less than a second later._

 _“No, no, no, no, no, no,_ no _!”_ _Eva was shaking her head furiously. “I did_ not _drag myself to the freakin’ boondocks for this!”_

_“Eva, calm down.” But the words were barely out of Neil’s mouth when the scene temporarily faded out again, and this time it took a bit more than a second for it to return to normal._

_“Don’t tell me to calm down, Neil Watts!” Eva yelled (Neil flinched at the volume), turning her wrath on him as though their patient’s declining condition was all his fault. “I spent four hours sitting in that damn car with nothing to eat or drink and I swear to God, if Roland dies before we can get him on the big screen, I’m going to the boss and telling him he has to pay us extra_ for the rest of our natural lives _!”_

_As Eva ranted, Roland’s memory continued to briefly fade out, and the time it took to go back to normal was a little longer each time: a second and ten milliseconds, a second and fifteen milliseconds, a second and twenty milliseconds._

_Before Neil could say anything to try to get his partner to simmer down, Dr. Hartley’s voice was heard over the memory machine’s communication system._

_“Dr. Watts, Dr. Rosalene, we have a situation.”_

_“Yeah, we can tell from our end, too,” Neil said. “Roland’s been destabilised.”_

_“I’m doing what I can to re-stabilize him, but that’s not our only problem. Peter’s here, and he’s not happy that his father hired Sigmund Corp. I’ve told him that it was Roland’s choice to have this procedure done, but Peter keeps demanding you leave. Can one of you come back and reason with him?”_

_“I’ll do it,” Eva decided immediately, sounding much calmer now. She turned to Neil. “You stay here and get the memory links.”_

_“Wait, Eva, I think—” Neil began._

_“You. Stay. Here.” And with that, Eva vanished from the memory._

_“...I think maybe I ought to talk to him,” Neil finished to himself, “just in case things get violent.” He could only hope that Eva wouldn’t be gone for too long._

_With the memory still momentarily fading out every so often, Neil gathered the memory links needed to power the memento, Roland’s record player. Luckily, the objects containing the memory links—the bulletin board, the lamp, an old day planner, stationary, and unsurprisingly, a hardback copy of Bram Stoker’s_ Dracula _—were easy enough to find. What was less easy, though, was waiting for Eva to return. After all, anti-Sigmund people weren’t often known for being the most reasonable sort; for all Neil knew, Eva could have a black eye and a broken nose by now, or even be unconscious._

_He was in the middle of debating the pros and cons of leaving Roland’s memories to check on Eva, or at least call her, when he heard her voice through the communication system._

_“Did you get the memory links?” she asked without preamble._

_“I did,” he replied. “What’s going on out there? Everything okay?”_

_“You wish. Peter’s insisting we leave his dad alone. Quite angrily, might I add. But I’ll be back as soon as—” Eva suddenly cut herself off with a pained cry, and Neil heard a thud in the background._

_“Eva? Eva?!” For a second, Neil was rooted to the spot, but in the next instant, he was getting out of Roland’s increasingly unstable memory. He came back to the real world in time to see Dr. Hartley frantically adjusting Roland’s IV drip...and Eva lying in a heap on the carpet with a middle-aged man—obviously Peter—looming over her._

Son of a _bitch_! _was Neil’s only thought in that moment. The next thing he knew, he was lunging at Peter, tackling him to the floor, and punching him in the face over and over again. It wasn’t long before Peter was swinging his own fists, and Neil yelped when the older man’s knuckles collided with his face._

_Through the blood pounding in his ears, Neil dimly heard Eva screaming as the scuffle went on. Dr. Hartley might have been shouting, too. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was making sure Peter couldn’t lay another finger on Eva, and if Neil had to break his face, then by God, he’d do it._

_He didn’t know how long he spent whaling on the older man, but eventually, Neil’s blows knocked Peter out. He had barely enough time to take in the bruises on Peter’s face when Eva pulled him off the man._

_“What the hell did you just_ do _?!” she demanded._

_“Oh, no!” Dr. Hartley exclaimed before Neil could answer. And no wonder—a long, harsh beep was sounding from the ECG, and on the screen was a straight line._

_Roland Stewart was dead._

_All Neil could do was wordlessly stare at the ECG as it continued blaring._

* * *

“And that,” Neil concluded, “is exactly what happened.”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Eva burst out, jumping to her feet. “ _That’s_ what you’re going to write in your report?!”

Neil’s brow furrowed. “I’m going to write that I leapt to your defence when Peter attacked you and that Roland—who already wasn’t looking too hot, by the way—died despite Dr. Hartley’s best efforts to buy us more time. What’s so wrong about it?”

“How about the part where you make me look like a total harpy?”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to know what I’m gonna tell the boss. Now you know.”

“That is _not_ what happened at all and you know it!”

“Well, Eva, it’s a good thing I said you had to tell me what you’re going to write in your report. So, what do _you_ think happened?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you _exactly_ what happened.” Eva took a deep, calming breath before continuing. “This afternoon, I went to your office to tell you about our new patient.”


	3. Dr. Rosalene's Account

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither the Pokémon anime nor the Teen Titans theme song.

_“Neil, the boss just texted me about—Neil?”_

_Eva had walked into her partner’s office to tell him about their new client, and it was only now that she noticed Neil had his head down on his desk, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. She sighed—leave it to Neil to take a nap when there was work to be done._

_She went over to his desk and gently shook his shoulder. “Time to wake up, Neil.”_

_He snorted as he groggily lifted up his head. “Hey, c’mon, no fair,” he hoarsely complained, blinking and looking around sleepily. “I was getting some shut-eye!”_

_“And you can have all the shut-eye you want once we’ve finished with our patient.”_

_“Mmm?”_

_Eva took that to mean Neil wanted her to elaborate, so she did. “The boss texted me about Roland Stewart. He lives pretty far from here, so we better get going now if we want to fulfill his wish. Meet me at the company car as soon as—are you even listening to me?” she asked as Neil lay his head back down on his desk._

_“Yeah, yeah, I’m hearing ya,” he mumbled. “Stewland Rowart. Got it.”_

_She groaned. “Just get up and grab the briefcase, please.”_

* * *

“Well, aren’t you a martyr?” Neil deadpanned. “Need I remind you who has to carry that damn thing?”

“And need _I_ remind _you_ who likes messing around whenever there’s work to do? That was rhetorical,” Eva added when Neil opened his mouth to answer. He scowled at her, and she continued. “So, after we left headquarters, we drove to Roland’s house and met his medical doctor.”

* * *

_After a four-hour drive, Eva and Neil at last arrived at Roland Stewart’s house. As the former didn’t have her hands full with their equipment’s briefcase, unlike the latter, she was the one to knock on the front door._

_“So, like, are you the peeps from Sigmund Inc.?” was the first thing a thirty-something-year-old woman asked them upon opening the door._

_“Sigmund Corp., actually,” Eva corrected, smiling politely. “I’m Dr. Rosalene, and he’s,” she gave a quick glance at Neil, who was staring at the woman like he was a dog looking at a large slab of steak, “Dr. Watts.”_

_“Hot damn,” Neil murmured, his grip on the briefcase slackening._

_The woman beamed. “I’m Dr. Lucinda Hartley. I’m Roland’s…um, whatchamacallit...M.E.? Wait, no, that sounds, like, totally wrong. Um...” Her mouth twisted in thought, then she snapped her fingers. “Oh, yeah! M.D.! I’m Roland’s M.D.!” She sounded very proud of herself for figuring out that vital bit of information._

_Eva chanced another look at Neil. Judging from the blissfully vacuous expression on his face, she was forced to conclude that he hadn’t heard a single word from the moment the door opened, and she had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Honestly,_ _the dark-haired, dark-eyed, and olive-skinned Dr. Hartley might have been considered_ passably _pretty, but the obviously fake eyelashes ruined whatever natural beauty she had._

_Also, the valley girl demeanor, complete with an obnoxiously ditzy voice, made Eva wonder how this woman made it through med school._

* * *

Neil _laughed_. He laughed so hard he fell backward onto his bed, unknowingly dropping his icepack on the carpet in the process.

Eva watched on, utterly unamused. “Are you going to be done soon?”

“Nope.” Neil laughed a while longer before sitting up and catching his breath. “ _Really_ , Eva? Fake eyelashes?”

“Her eyelashes were unusually thick!” Eva said defensively.

“No, they weren’t. And why the hell does that even matter, anyway?”

“Since when is being thorough a bad thing?”

“ _That’s_ your idea of thorough?”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Eva snapped, deciding that they’d spent enough time on this subject, “we went into the house and found Roland in his room.”

* * *

_The sight that greeted Eva and Neil as soon as they and Dr. Hartley entered Roland Stewart’s bedroom was a very familiar one: their unconscious patient lying in bed, hooked up to an IV, with an ECG beeping nearby on a night table. It wasn’t too long before the memory machine was all set, though Eva privately thought it would’ve taken a bit less time if Neil didn’t keep blatantly checking Dr. Hartley out._

_Like he was doing right now._

_“Sooooo, doc,” Neil drawled, looking Dr. Hartley up and down with a perverted grin on his face, “when do you get off work?”_

_“What can you tell us about the patient?” Eva quickly asked, hoping she could cut short Neil’s unprofessional attempts at getting a date, a one-night stand, or both. She ignored the glare he shot her._

_“Well, I can totally tell you that Roland was a pizza guy for, like, ever,” Dr. Hartley replied, “Donna bit it—that was his wife, y’know—some time ago, and Peter—that’s his son—practically lives next door, if you can believe it. Oh,” she added, as if only now just realizing it, “and Roland wants to be, like, some super famous movie star before_ he _bites it!”_

_“Great; we now know what his wish is,” Eva said. “Do you have any idea of how long Dr. Watts and I have to fulfill it?”_

_“And would it leave you and me with enough time for a late dinner?” Neil asked eagerly._

_Dr. Hartley scratched her head. “Oh,_ God _, that’s a toughie, ’cause Roland totally almost bought the farm, like, twice before you guys showed up. Um...jeeze, I dunno. Twelve hours? I guess?”_

_Eva nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Hartley; that’s more than enough time.”_

* * *

Neil was no longer finding anything funny about Eva’s version of events. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re making me sound like Brock from _Pokémon_?”

“Can I continue, or are you going to interrupt me some more?” Eva retorted.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.”

“To get back on topic,” Eva said, pointedly glancing at Neil, “we began going through Roland’s memories, and things went downhill from there.”

* * *

 _Eva frowned as the memory of the elderly Roland listening to an audiobook of_ Dracula _in his study abruptly faded out a little, then went back to normal almost immediately. “I_ really _hope that isn’t what I think it means.”_

_Neil grinned, completely unconcerned. “Sorry, Eva; I can’t hear you over the sound of NOSFERATU!”_

_She gave him a peevish stare as the memory temporarily faded out again. “If Roland’s been destabilized, we better hope he gets re-stabilized soon. Otherwise—”_

_“Sheesh, don’t get your undies in a bunch,” Neil interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You worry_ way _too much about crap like this. So the memory’s glitching on us, so what? It doesn’t mean the old fart’s gonna bite the dust before we can do our thing.”_

_While Neil talked, the memory continued to briefly fade out and then return to normal. The fact that the amount of time in between the memory fading out and it returning to normal was getting longer each time it happened did nothing to make Eva believe she was being neurotic._

_“Hey, Sigmund Inc. people!” Dr. Hartley called over the communication system. “We’ve got, like, major probs out here!”_

_“It’s Sigmund Corp.,” Eva reminded her, “and yes, we’ve noticed Roland’s current condition, too.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, and you can totally count on me to keep him breathing and stuff. But_ seriously _, Peter’s shown up, and he’s, like,_ majorly _hacked off that you guys are here. I told him that his dad already paid, like, a gazillion dollars to get his brain changed, but he’s totally not listening! Can one of you, y’know, talk to him, get him to cool it or something?”_

_“I can do that,” Eva said. Turning to Neil, she added, “In the meantime, you get the memory links.” From what Dr. Hartley was saying, Peter needed someone to calm him down, and Neil was far more likely to agitate him further than anything else._

_“What, you mean I can’t be on ‘talking down relatives’ duty?” Neil demanded._

_“I’m afraid not,” was all Eva said before she exited Roland’s memories. Once she made it back to reality, she found herself face-to-face with the patient’s furious-looking son._

_“Listen,” Eva began calmly, removing her helmet, “your father hired Dr. Watts and I to try to—”_

_“I know exactly what you’re trying to do,” Peter snarled. “You’re trying to give my father a fake life. Well, guess what? That’s not gonna be happening, so get the fuck out of here. And take the skinny guy with you.”_

_“Uh, like, they can’t,” Dr. Hartley said in a this-should-be-obvious tone of voice, not looking up from adjusting Roland’s IV. “I already said—”_

_Peter whirled on her. “Shut up! I oughta throw you out, too, for letting these people into this house!”_

_“She’s right, though,” Eva pointed out. “Dr. Watts and I are under contract to fulfill your father’s wish.”_

_“And just who the hell gave_ you _the right to go into my dad’s head?!” Peter demanded._

_“Your dad. He’s the one who signed for us.”_

_“Why don’t you exercise your right to leave my dad alone?”_

_“Let me talk to Dr. Watts,” Eva said, already stepping over to the memory machine, “see what he has to say about it.” She quickly turned the communication system back on. “Hey, can you hear me?”_

_“_ When there’s trouble, you know who to call! Teen Titans! _” Neil’s singing voice came in clear and loud. “_ From their Tower, they can see it all! Teen Titans! _”_

* * *

“I did _not_!” Neil whined.

Eva did not even bother with responding to that. “So, to make a long story short, we were able to talk for a little bit before Peter got mad over me not telling you to get out of Roland’s memories. That’s when you had your overreaction.”

* * *

 _“_ Please _tell me you have the memory links.” As Eva spoke, a loud beep sounded from the ECG, warning that Roland’s condition was continuing to decline._

_She heard Neil scoff. “’Course I do. A monkey could’ve gotten these memory links.”_

_Better a snarky mood than a singing one, she supposed. Out loud, Eva said, “Well, that’s one piece of good news, at least. Peter still wants us to leave his father’s memories alone. Just stay put until I—”_

_She cut herself off with a yelp; Roland had shoved her to the carpet before she could finish._

_“You get him out of there or_ I will _!” he roared over the ECG’s beeping._

 _Eva had just enough time to get to her knees when she heard Neil’s voice—Neil’s honest-to-goodness, not-through-the-communication-system,_ very _real voice._

_“GERONIMO!”_

_And with that incredibly dramatic shout, Neil tossed his helmet aside, tackled Peter to the carpet, and started punching him in the face._

Oh, cucumbers. _For a few seconds, all Eva could do was watch as her partner and their client’s son had their impromptu fistfight, but it wasn’t long before she was on her feet._

 _“Hey! Hello? Would you stop this?! Stop!_ Stop _!”_

_Unfortunately, no amount of yelling on her part caused Neil and Peter to stop hitting each other, and Dr. Hartley was too busy with Roland to pay much attention to anything else. The fight ended only when Neil beat Peter unconscious, and Eva wasted no time in pulling him off the older man._

_“What the walnut did you just do?” she exclaimed, staring at Neil’s bruised face before glancing towards the fallen, equally bruised Peter. This was exactly the sort of thing she was hoping to_ avoid _._

_“Uh...guys?” Dr. Hartley spoke up. “Like, I think you should see this.”_

_Eva looked up at the ECG, only now noticing the shrill sound of a flatline. Sure enough, the screen showed a single, straight line. Roland Stewart was gone._

_“Aw, shit,” Neil said._

_It was a crude, yet sadly accurate way to put it._

* * *

Neil incredulously stared at Eva after she was done. “Somehow, in your world, _I’m_ the one who’s out of their mind? How the actual fresh hell does you making me look like a moron equal you helping me keep my job?”

“I can always say you overreacted out of a misguided sense of chivalry,” Eva suggested. “That could make the boss decide to be lenient.”

Neil just shook his head. Honestly, sometimes he couldn’t tell if this woman was in his corner or not.

Still, he stood by what he’d said earlier. The boss had had plenty of opportunities to kick him out and hadn’t taken them—why should this incident be any different? Maybe when this all blew over and he was very much _not_ fired, Neil would gloat to Eva about how wrong she was to fret over his job security.

Oh, who was he kidding? Of _course_ he was going to gloat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment where you’re not entirely sure if Eva’s version of Neil is actually all that exaggerated.


	4. The Aftermath

The next day found Neil and Eva at Sigmund Corp. HQ, sitting on a couch in the boss’ reception area like two schoolchildren waiting to see the principal. The only sounds in the room came from the secretary sitting at her desk, typing away on her computer.

Eva spared a glance at Neil, who was staring off into space and drumming his fingers on an armrest. At least the bruises on his face didn’t look any worse than they did last night. If anything, they looked a little smaller and a bit darker than the glaringly obvious red marks they started as. About twelve more days or so, and it would be as if Neil never got into a fight with Peter Stewart at all.

Now, if only Eva could have the same confidence about him not getting fired.

She leaned over towards Neil to whisper, “Please don’t say anything stupid.”

“Will you shut up already?” he hissed, ceasing his drumming. “You’ve been saying that all morning!”

Eva responded by reaching out to straighten Neil’s collar, and he swatted her hand away.

Just then, the boss’ office door opened. “Rosalene, Watts,” their superior greeted.

“I’m not saying anything stupid!” Neil blurted out as he and Eva got to their feet.

The boss blinked in confusion, and Eva just barely resisted smacking herself in the face.

* * *

“Here’s the good news,” the boss began after Neil and Eva were seated in his office. “Roland Stewart’s medical doctor called me after you left his house last night and explained what happened—that Roland’s son Peter assaulted Dr. Rosalene and Dr. Watts came to her defense, and that Roland died before you could complete the contract.”

Neil quickly looked at Eva, his expression smug. _See?_ he seemed to be saying. _I told you so._

“With that being the case, we had to return the money Roland paid to his family, plus an extra five thousand dollars. Most likely, Peter will be mollified enough that he won’t bother with filing a lawsuit against us.”

“Good to know,” Eva said. “And the bad news?”

The boss fixed Neil with a glare. “While the circumstances surrounding the incident must be taken into account, assaulting a patient’s family member cannot be overlooked, Dr. Watts. If you didn’t have the justification of self-defense—and if it wouldn’t be a pain to find someone to replace you—your ass would be fired on the spot. As it is, you will be on unpaid leave for two weeks and your sessions with Dr. Keller will be held every other week for the foreseeable future.”

“ _What_?!” Neil exclaimed, suddenly no longer in a gloating mood.

“Keep your voice down, Dr. Watts,” the boss told him, speaking as though he were dealing with an unruly teenager. “Obviously, the stress of your job has been getting to you, and that’s what Sigmund Corp. hires therapists for—to help agents manage stress levels and maintain their mental and emotional health.”

“Punching Peter’s lights out was self-defence! You said it yourself! Why the h—”

“Neil,” Eva interrupted warningly, “you’re not helping.”

“Dr. Rosalene,” the boss said, turning to Eva, “I will contact you shortly about your temporary partner. And Dr. Watts,” he returned his attention to Neil, “please go home before I decide to fire you after all.”

* * *

“This is _bullshit_!” Neil was saying as he followed Eva to her office.

Eva rolled her eyes. “I heard you the twelfth time.”

“Well, it is! I choose to help my partner over some geezer I didn’t know existed before yesterday, and all the thanks I get is even _more_ wasted time with a shrink?”

“Be grateful that unpaid leave and extra therapy was all you got. It beats losing your job, doesn’t it?”

Neil just huffed as they arrived at Eva’s office door.

“Anyway,” Eva continued, “I’ll see you later. Try not to burn your house down in the meantime.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Neil turned on his heel and began walking down the hall.

And as Eva watched him go, she distinctly heard him mutter, “This is bullshit.”


End file.
